Annihilation
Prologue The final act had been passed. The worlds most feared generals and world leaders looked up from the worlds most dangerous conference table. Two years after the countries in the middle east united under one flag, they started recruiting nations to take out there most hated enemy. All other countries agreed to turn a blind eye, they must offer no aid. So now after Britain was bribed, and tricked into signing the document they could now march onward to their final destination. Finally the U.S. would fall. Chapter I I was born exactly one year before the invasion began. Six months before the C.I.A. figured out what was going down. Eight months before the president was assassinated. Eleven months before Clavos convinced all his followers to commit suicide. Twelve months before the invasion began. I was a year old when ol' Uncle Sam was first tainted by those scum. Back when we had hope. The first shots weren't fired until ten years afterwards, but the Russian, Chinese and the ULAC (United Lower Asia Countries) were already rolling the dice. There spies had immigrated in, and established themselves in American culture, like really established themselves. One man Russuv Clemlich started Ruch Tech, and by three years later almost every home in America possessed a Ruch computer. Then the bombs started to go off. Domestic bombing dominated the news, and hundreds were killed, and nobody knew how. I was eleven when the opposition first started to roll in. Russia came across the Bering Strait, and into Alaska. Mexico and China started their front in Texas. Finally the ULAC came right across the Atlantic, mistake. They could never breach our east coast, so they invaded Canada. So Canada craped their pants and ran running to America for help. We bought them for only 2.5 million, a truckload of maple syrup, and a hockey team. Now the U-S of A almost owns a whole continent, once we push Mexico out. They haven't made it past Austin in 7 years. ULAC has taken Michigan, Wisconsin, and some of Indiana. But now Russia is full speed ahead. They control Washington, Oregon, and northern California. I live in northwest Idaho. I can hear the gunshots right now, as I finish my journal. I'm mailing it to my Aunt Beck in Britain. she'll know the tyranny. But right as I finish that sentence my mom, working in the garden screams. I can just hear the jeep rolling up the drive. A pistol cocks. Chapter II I set down my pen and run outside. My mom is cowering on the ground, a Russian captain standing with his Meizer pointed at her head. he looks up as I enter the scene. My uncle's combat knife is clutched in my hand. He served twenty years in the Seals, taught me everything I know, if this knife was balanced that Captain would be dead, but the soldier atop the Jeep with the 50 cal made me think otherwise. The Captain looks up, "Prepared to fight little boy? To save your mum?" he said this with perfect English and i knew he'd been in America for a while. I responded, sadly. "You will never take America!" I yelled. "Burn in hell you scum!" The Captain had been wanting this answer. "If I can't take America, I'll have to settle for your mothers life." At this he lifted the weapon and fired. Time slowed, my mother's head snapped backwards, blood flowed out from her head. The bullet struck right between the eyes. She withered around or the ground, slowly becoming soaked in her own blood, then she died. The Captain smiled and turned the gun on me, but before he could fire and second time, my German Shepard, Hustle, ran around the house and jumped on the captain. Hustle was trained to kill. He clawed the man, sticky blood gushed forth from the man's throat, as Hustle scratched and gnawed on this poor mans chest. The thought to call him off never crossed my mind. I took a step forward and flung my knife with all my might. It hit the gunman square in the chest, his eyes glazed over, the knife had punctured a lung. A horrid retching noise filled the air as the Russian chokes on his own blood and begs for mercy. He will receive none from me, a whole minute passed before the mans merciful screams stopped, and he embraced death. I stood there watching the Russians lie dead on the ground. Then the Captains radio beeped. A voice came ovwer the speaker. "Captain you read? We are nearing your position. the General has given us permission to take what the damned Americans call Idaho." I had just murdered two people. Some Russian piece of monkey crap had just told me he was going to take my state. I picked up the radio and yelled, "Listen here you rancid bag of horse crap. You can take my country just as soon as your mother has another ass hole like you for a DAUGHTER! I got a whole army behind me! Go back to your vodka you degenerate Russian bag of elephant genitalia!" It was then that it occurred to me that I r4eally didn't have a whole army behind me. Well crap. The gunshots were closer now. I lived in the middle of no where, you could see for miles out here. And not far off, the first Russian tank was appearing on the horizon. Chapter III It took them almost an hour to reach me, the thought of fighting crossed my mind, but this was a whole division of their army. If I wanted to live, fighting was out of the question. The most I did was give Hustle the sleeves of my shirt, then told him to follow me. Wherever I was taken, Hustle would be with me. My bulky forearms were bare now, years of tending the woods around our house, hunting, military training from my uncle and father, and playing on the varsity rugby team. If my father was home we could have possibly escaped in his truck, but sadly he was at work. A Russian voice screamed in broken English." Where's your army soldier boy? Your lucky the Captain wants you alive. Those forearms of yours could help us in the labor camp." He sneered at this last statement and before I knew it two of those vile men had me on the ground with a gag and blind fold. My arms were zip-tied and I felt myself being thrown into the back of a Jeep. The ride lasted for almost two hours, and I contemplated using the knife hidden in the sole of my shoe to cut myself loose, but i knew they would find me, and shoot me. Luckily I knew a trick to getting my blindfold off, I could clearly see the landscape around us, it was one I knew well. Then we entered what had been Cayan Capes, the small town where I went to school and my dad worked, in the weapons shop. We passed Goodlow Firearms, or what was Goodlow Firearms, it had been ransacked and half of the shop was burned. As we exited off the main road I could now see where they were taking me. A POW and labor camp had been set up here, it was perfect placement, the subway was only a mile away, and it was in the middle of nowhere, nobody would find it. Suddenly the Jeep stopped, and a rough voice told me to get out. I stood up, but as I made my way out, I stumbled. The soldier let me fall, then dragged me up and pushed me roughly. I fell again, this time face first into a bed of mushrooms and fungi. I stood up on my own, and made my way into the camp, the sign on top read "Vechnaya Smert" I had no idea what it meant. The heavy metal gate opened and the Jeep entered. The camp was a giant rectangle, complete with barracks, guard's quarters, watchtowers, a control station, and three giant factories. It was surrounded on three sides by huge metal walls, the last side was chain-link, but it was surrounded by a monstrous mud puddle, no vehicle could get through that mud. I was roughly pushed into the barracks where they took me to a side room, a shower and examination room. It had no tools or anything remotely weapon-like. I was told to strip and they washed me with freezing water then threw me a navy jump suit and sandals. My knife was hidden it my shoe! How could I ever escape without it? Luckily I had thought this through. As my shoes were taken off I moaned and groaned. My feet were covered in fungi and tiny mushrooms, the Russians reeled back in horror. I told them how I had a contagious American disease, and there were pads in my shoes that kept it from spreading. They hurriedly gave me back my shoes, and I was rushed to the barracks, where all the other inmates had already gathered. After our measly meal of broth and bread, I found some familiar faces. My dad, cousin, two of my teammates, Will and Leo, my best friend Michael, and my girlfriend Marika. They had all been taken from the town when it was liquidated or from their houses, not far off from Cayan Capes. Leo noticed my shoes first, "How did you keep them?" He asked. "Those scum took my combat boots, Oh what I would give for those bad boys to be back in my possession." I smiled, then explained how I "stumbled" on the Jeep, allowing me to snatch a medical pad and some Aspirin, then how I "tripped" again, this time grabbing some fungus to put on my foot. Everyone was impressed, except for my cousin, Rick. His father, my uncle, is Trevor Andrew Constivs or Tac. He has served eight years in the Seals, and he along with my father Tyler Ignatius Constivs, Tic, had taught me everything I know. My dad is an ex-Special Forces operative. he was discharged when a bomb blew up half his face, leaving him with one eye, and one ear. He had run Goodlow Firearms with his brother-in-law Edward Goodlow, until now. I asked dad where Uncle Ed was, dad told me how the Russians had ransacked the store, they asked Ed where he kept all the money and heavy weaponry. After the twenty-ninth amendment was passed, allowing Americans to own fully automatic, and heavy weaponry, due to ULACs formation.